Priya
by Cogito Ergo Sum
Summary: Sequel to 'Lost Love'. It is the year 1629. Priya, Pocahontas' daughter, has come to England to seek old friends, lost loves and forgotten memories.
1. Prologue

**A/N:** Welcome to a "new" Pocahontas fic. I always intended to write more about Pocahontas, John Smith, Priya and Tej. So here it is! This is a sequel to my other Pocahontas story, 'Lost Love'. I hope you will enjoy it. We'll pick it up from the final words of 'Love Love'.

* * *

**Priya**

* * *

VIRGINIA, THE YEAR 1612

"So we are to part again," she said.

John nodded.

"So it seems."

They looked at each other in a few moments of silence and then she fell into his arms. He embraced her with all his might and kissed her forehead; she lifted her head and returned his kiss. Then she looked down and a tear fell on the sand. He lifted her chin.

"If I never knew you, if I never felt this love. Then I would have no inkling of how precious life can be. And if I never held you I would never have a clue how at last I'd find in you the missing part of me. I can see the truth so clear in your eyes, so dry your eyes."

She smiled at him.

"If I never knew you I'd be safe but half as real. Never knowing I could feel a love so strong and true."

He took her hands.

"There's no moment I regret since the moment that we met. If our time has gone too fast I've lived at last. And I'm so grateful to you. I'd have lived my whole life through lost forever, if I never knew you."

They squeezed each other's hands.

"Sir, it is time."

John nodded.

"I will never forget you," John said.

They let go. Pocahontas stood there nailed to the ground as she watched him get into a row boat. She said nothing as he waved at her, unable to press sound past her lips. She watched silently as she watched him being brought towards the ship. She felt an urge boiling inside her. She felt it burn and it was crawling up towards her mouth.

"John!" she yelled and ran into the water.

"John! She is yours!"

"What?" John yelled back as he leaned forward towards her. They were already far from the shore.

"Priya! She is _yours_, John."

John sank back into his seat. Pocahontas stopped running further into the water. She watched him as he stared at her blankly. She kept watching the boats until they reached the ship. They did not return and Pocahontas did not expect them to. She turned around and walked back to the shore. Then she started running. She climbed the familiar cliff. She watched as the ship set sail. Then she raised her arm and made the wingapo gesture.

_Farewell._

* * *

ENGLAND, THE YEAR 1629

A loud bang woke John Smith. He blinked and took a moment to recall where he was. He found himself in bed, of course. Dazed he looked up to discover that the sun had not even risen yet. He was just about to lean back comfortably when another bang sounded. And another. Someone was clearly banging at the door. John moaned as he rose. He reached for his pocket watch and saw that it was nearly 2:00 A.M. Such madness! He put on a shirt and the trousers he had worn yesterday and walked to the front door of his little wooden cottage. He always liked how his footsteps made the wood crack. It was a warm, comforting sound. Even though he was not a coward man, he was cautious as he neared the door. He opened it just enough for him to look outside. Two cloaked figures stood before him, lit only by weak moonlight. They looked much like monks with their large hoods covering their entire faces. John Smith raised his eyebrows.

"Yes?"

The slimmer one of the two stepped forward and looked up at him. John narrowed his eyes. The face was young and tanned. The few strands of hair were dark and thick. And the eyes… Those eyes… The person threw off the hood. John gasped. A young woman stood before him. Recognition struck him. Memories flashed through his mind. He felt his stomach turn. This woman, this _girl_… She… 

Her hazel eyes pierced his icy blues. 

"I've come here on behalf of my mother."

_Pocahontas…_


	2. Bitter

**A/N:** Wow! It was only after a few hours that the first reviews came in. Thank you so much! I am so happy that you are all supporting me and this story. I can only hope that I make your expectations come true.

* * *

John took a moment to take in those words. Again, flashes from the past overflowed his mind. Images of his long lost love floated by. He had left her all those years ago in the knowledge that she would be better off, that she would be loved by her Indian husband and their two children. Now, one of those children was standing before him, breathing the same air. As John was leaving Virginia, Pocahontas had told him the biggest secret of her life. The few times that they had been making love had been sufficient enough for her to become pregnant with his child. They had a daughter together. Priya… It had been seventeen years since he had last seen her. She had only been a toddler of three years old back then. Now, she was a fully blossomed young woman. She looked exactly like her mother, although he could tell that she had mixed blood. A rush of joy came over him as he fully came to the realization that his daughter, his baby girl, stood before him. It was her, she was real. He couldn't say how this was even possible, he couldn't think straight. All those years she had been in his every thought, with everything he did. He had left her and the only woman he had ever loved that very day, yet the scent of the forest and the beach had never left his mind. He still felt the goodbye kiss that he had received from Pocahontas. From that kiss onwards, he would never love again.

He scratched his throat.

"Please come in."

He closed his eyes and inhaled her scent as she strode past him. She was followed by a young man who had not yet revealed himself. As he slipped inside, John caught a quick glance of him. He was Indian as well. This did not surprise John. He couldn't have imagined that Priya would have made the journey by herself. Not that she wouldn't have the spirit to do that, but still. The more he thought about her travelling all this way and managing to find him, the more it fascinated him. And she had come her on behalf of her mother? What could her message be? Why had Pocahontas not come this way herself? A sudden fear crept over him. Priya had sounded so indifferent, almost cold. Was it because English was only her second language? Surely she would have been taught the English language since more and more British ships went across the sea. Pocahontas had learned the language by listening to her heart, surely she would have passed the knowledge on to her children. Then another thought entered his mind. This young man… Was he Tej?

Priya looked around the house. She narrowed her eyes. So this was the place that he had spent the past seventeen years. She felt his eyes upon her back. She hoped that he would notice the resemblance with her mother. He must have noticed. People in the village always told her that she looked so much like her. They had the same feisty spirit. She was nothing like _him_. She resented the British people that came to invade her home town. They surely hadn't seized the construction of Jamestown. Her late grandfather had even started to trade and built relationships with those whites. 

"Priya… I have no words… I don't know what to say."

She spun around. 

"Then do not say anything."

John shook his head in confusion. The harsh voice coming from so sweet a face seemed out of the place, as if the voice wasn't really hers. She looked as if she was about to fall apart like a fragile doll. Not knowing exactly what to do, he turned to the man.

"Would you like anything to drink?" He asked Priya and glanced over at her. "Or your… friend?" 

Priya understood that he was curious about her Indian companion. 

"This is Kamchook. A friend. And we could do with a little water. Please."

John nodded and disappeared. Still puzzled by her sudden appearance his thought slipped away, causing him to spill the water. He quickly recovered and returned to the room, where he walked in onto the two of them talking. He had never been able to learn the language, even though Pocahontas had tried so often to teach him. He handed them the drinks, they emptied their glasses in an instant. There were a million questions that John would like to ask, and a million more things he wanted to say. Instead, he began with the one question that she had thrown him in his face.

"You've come to me on behalf of Pocahontas?"

He could not have known that this single question was about to change his life for good. He thought that those million questions and answers could be answered any time. He had her now and he would make sure. How could he have known that what he was about to hear, would trigger a race against time? That his carefree spirit would have to face that sometimes time would not be on his side? That the ticking of a clock could be the ticking of a heart, fading?

"Yes," Priya said crudely. Kamchook stirred, she shushed him. 

"She is very ill."

John's eyes widened.

"We think that some sort of epidemic disease has broken out. The same disease has killed her husband and… my little brother." 

She looked down as her voice broke. John felt the blood leave his face. He saw the little Tej lie peacefully in his crib, he saw how Pocahontas picked him up lovingly, how he smiled at her. And now he was gone. As for Tai, John felt bad for him, but of course he had never thought much of the man. It had been for Pocahontas that John had left, for her happiness, not for that of her husband.

"He was only sixteen…" she sobbed. Kamchook stepped forward and rubbed her back. She forcefully straightened her back and brushed him away. She looked at John angrily. 

"Our healer can't do anything. We have even tried the doctor in Jamestown, but no one knew what to do. The only thing they could tell us was that looked like tuberculosis and that we should keep some distance or it would infect us too. They said that our only hope, that her only chance of survival lay in the hands of a new medicine which can be found only here, in England. That is why I have come. She asked for you. She said you would help."

"Of course I will!" he burst out. He couldn't believe that it was happening. Through Priya, Pocahontas had felt so close, and now suddenly so far away. _My beloved. What hardships must we face this time? How unfair, how cruel. _

"I know that you are an influential person. I trust that you will be able to get us to that doctor and help us get the medicines and the people we need."

"I will do what ever I can. I will not let her suffer, I will not give up on her."

"Good. We have been in England for a while now, actually. We have gathered information and we have discovered the whereabouts of the one man who can help us. We must travel to London."


	3. Kamchook

**A/N:** Yay, a new chapter! I watched Pocahontas again today and it brought me inspiration! That's always good. I'm having a good feeling about this story. I recently got a comment on 'Lost Love' telling me that it needs some adjustments and needs to be rewritten. And it does. So when I feel like it, I'm going to start on rewriting that fic. It probably needs to be rewritten completely (whilst keeping it in its original form of course). For now, please enjoy the latest chapter.

* * *

Kamchook observed Priya from the corner of his eye. She was fumbling with pillows and the couch where she would sleep. The room was dimly lit. Kamchook smiled as he saw his Little Warrior lie down on the improvised bed. She was still grumpy and mumbled a quick 'good night,' and that was that. Little Warrior, he liked to called her that. She would have made a great warrior, had she been a man. She was feisty and spirited. She had proved it once again tonight. Although she would have never admitted it, tonight in the carriage, he could tell that she was nervous. They had been away from home for months now, and it had all come down to this.

They had known each other for quite some time now. He was two years older but was part of the same tribe. They began playing with each other when Priya had been eight and he was ten. They soon became the best of friends. A little while later, Tej was accepted into the "group" as well. The three of them always got along very well, looking for adventure first in their own village, then near the settlement, and after that in the great forest. Over the years the friendship changed from a material to a deep and trusting friendship. Until Tej became ill. He died after a short sick bed. Priya had been inconsolable, yet Kamchook had done all he could. She came to think of him as her big brother. Although he was honored by this, he thought fondly about the time they had spent together when she had been seventeen and he nineteen. They had been lovers then. Still innocent of course, but he had loved her with all his heart. Their romance had not lasted long. Priya had still been playful and she had not discovered the point of being in a relationship yet. She caressed her freedom. So they both decided to "just be friends, and nothing more." And they had left it at that. Priya never kept their short relationship a secret, she didn't think that it was such a big deal. And it really wasn't. The only problem was, that he still loved her. Even to this very day. Yet she continued to see him as a friend, and he made sure that she would not learn about his feelings, afraid of what it might do to their valued friendship. Eventually he became a warrior and stayed away from home for weeks; cheers and a huge hug from Priya would be his returning reward. His journeys provided him with the distraction he needed. Now he had been travelling with her for weeks on end. He made sure that his feelings would not get in the way, yet he could not help thinking about her, caring about her in other ways than just friendship.

He turned on his other side.

When Priya was younger, she would stand on the great protruding rock, longing for something. Kamchook never really understood what she was looking and waiting for, until one day her mother explained it to him whilst Priya had gone off to the rock again. Pocahontas told him about someone called John Smith, and how he sailed off to a faraway place called England, never to return again. She told him how she would go to the rock and try to relive the events of that day. Kamchook had known that Tai wasn't Priya's biological father, as did everyone after Pocahontas had yelled it to John Smith. At first her people hadn't known what to do, but they gradually accepted it and even saw Priya as being special. Even Tai learned to accept the child as his own, although Kamchook believed that even until his death, he had always felt the rivalry between him and his blonde counterpart. After the reunion Tai had been a good father and husband though. Priya had also known from a young age that Tai wasn't her biological father, but saw him as her father anyway. She simply would say that she had "two fathers, and that was the most wonderful thing in the world!"

Oh how often had she been on look-out for the ship that would never come. She got more grim each time she returned, and eventually Kamchook decided that it couldn't go on like that any longer. He 

talked to Pocahontas and she told her daughter that it would be futile to spend all her days waiting for a man who might never come, but that only made matters worse. Priya went less frequently, but became ever more determined.

"Why won't he come visit me, Kamchook?" She would say, "I'm his _daughter_!" She could not understand. And as the years went by, she became ever more bitter about it, and came to see Tai as her only father, eventually shutting out every reminder of John Smith, her blonde haired and blue eyed father. But, as she grew older, more of him appeared in her. She had a slightly lighter skin than most, and lighter hair and eyes, which made her stand out, and all the more beautiful. Most of all Pocahontas noticed the similarities in character and appearance between her daughter and the man she had to say goodbye twice. She was both saddened and relieved by it, because it made John Smith seem both so nearby and yet so far away. Kamchook had always supported Priya. She influenced him and eventually he also stopped caring about John Smith. He was just a vague memory, a shadow of the past.

Now, however, they found themselves in his house, for reasons already mentioned. Kamchook, being a few years older, thus having more experience, had managed to look past his own feelings, and had let his ancient gut feeling take over. He had seen the true being within John Smith himself. Kamchook still felt reluctant, but he was willing to give John Smith a chance to prove himself. Kamchook always believed that judging something by what your eyes see is better than judging from what you hear. He could only hope that Priya would discover that path as well. He would try to keep his distance and let her choose her own path. With a little guidance. The man deserved a second chance.


	4. Second chances

**A/N:** please forgive me, I haven't updated in so long. I got so completely stuck on this story that I quit writing altogether for awhile. I hope that I can pick it up again. Bear with me. I am so sorry for all the loyal readers out there, I know it's always terrible when a story you like suddenly stops. If there is anyone left at all who likes this after that much time though… Yikes!

* * *

John Smith blinked thoroughly as he tried to stop his eyes from getting dry. He had been staring at the ceiling ever since he had gone to bed. He had to try really hard to refrain himself from walking to the door to check if his two visitors were there, if it was real. He felt hot and cold at the same time. He brought his hand to his forehead and closed his eyes. Priya… He frowned. His mouth felt dry. Although he had been living this dream every night since his arrival in England, he had never really known how it would be. Now that she was here, he felt so… Confused. Even though he had not been able to watch her grow, to teach her about the spirits of the wood, to take her out for sailing, to tell her about England and his travels, he could sense this form of closeness, the bond made by blood. Her presence here made him both restless and easy. And of course he hadn't failed to notice her coldness. He could hardly blame her. In all those years, he had never sent word of him. He never went back to visit them… But how could he? Pocahontas had made it clear to him: she would live her life with Tai and her family. How could he intervene? After his heartache had subsided a little, he had decided never to go back again, not to intrude on their life, on Priya's life. His daughter would never know of his existence and live a happy family life with her mother, little brother and stepfather. That was how it was supposed to be. Now, John wasn't as sure.

And now on top of all of that, Pocahontas was severely ill… How could he ever live through this?

******

Priya ignored Kamchook's meaningful glances as she turned away from him. She lay in fetus position; knees pulled up high against her body. She couldn't stop thinking about the man lying in the other room, no matter how hard she tried. So this was the man she had always looked up to in her dreams. Who she watched out for over the seas, waiting for those 'strange clouds' to come again. This was the prince of whom her mother had spoken of in bedtime stories, the man who had changed all their lives. She frowned to keep her tears from falling from her eyes. She blinked furiously to make them go away. How foolish she had been to keep believing that he would come for her, that he would take her with him. She had never felt like she belonged anywhere. She had known from a very young age that she was different, and whilst other children had never bullied her about it and although she was respected by everyone of their tribe, she never felt at home. Her home, or so she thought, was with _him_. Once every week for years on end, she went to the outlook to wait for his ship. His ship that would never come. Finally, when fairytales could no longer enthrall her heart, she knew that the prince would never come, and she lay down her quest. Something inside her changed and her cheerful nature made way for a darker soul. Her childish heart had blackened from false hopes. And thus a childish heart turned into a woman's heart.

******

The left for London early the next morning. Priya and Kamchook sat together, John Smith sat opposite them. They wore cloaks because they all felt they could do without the publicity. For now, at least. John was the first to speak.

"You have really grown, Priya."

He added a careful smile. She looked up at him but said nothing. John fumbled with the edges of his sleeves.

"I had always hoped I would see you again."

At this, Priya frowned angrily.

"There were ways…" she hissed.

Kamchook raised his arm to hold her back. She shrugged it off and stared profoundly out of the window. John's heart wrenched. He stared down at his hands. Kamchook leaned forward.

"We are glad that we found you and that you are willing to help us."

John looked up in bewilderment.

"Of course! I will always be more than willing to help. To Pocahontas, to you… To everyone from the Powhatan tribe."

Priya looked at him.

"I owe them my eternal gratitude."

Priya growled.

"And… Love," he added. Priya looked away again. It made him almost lose his mind.

"Please Priya, please give me a chance. I know you won't be able to forgive me at this moment and maybe you never will, which is very likely and… Understandable. Honestly, I cannot blame you for detesting me. But please try to forget the past and think of the present. For your mother."

"Dare not to tell me how I ought to think or behave, John Smith, or tell me how I should feel. You know nothing about feeling."

Without a warning, she burst open the door of the carriage and disappeared into the woods. John wanted to jump after her but Kamchook had the speed of lightning. John fell back on the seat as the carriage came to a hold and rubbed his temples.

******

He found her at the edge of an open field, her long brown hair waving silently in tune with the wind. He slowly walked up to her and noticed tears running down her cheeks.

"Why did we have to come here, Kamchook? Why did mother have to fall ill and call for this man? This one man that I loathe? Why must I come here being subjected to his mercy?"

"Sometimes the path of the wind is unfathomable. But usually, it is the right path."

Her teary eyes met his. The strike of gold in her eyes was even more beautiful now that it was highlighted by the wetness of her tears.

"You really believe that, don't you?" she said softly.

He walked past her into the sunlight.

"I know you did too, once. Perhaps it is time to trust the wind again."

"How can I learn to trust in something that betrayed me so many years ago?"

"Que que na-to-ra, Little Warrior."

******

"I apologize for my crude behavior just now," Priya said as she took her place in the carriage.

"It's alright," John answered and he smiled at her.

She allowed herself one small smile in reply.


End file.
